In My Old Age
by Fonger
Summary: What's an elf to do when he retires from the toy-making business? FrostBern/SLASH/ONESHOT!


**A/N**: Obligatory spiel, yadda yadda, a bunch of author rantings including things nobody really cares about, blah blah blah, the readers aren't interested in what I have to say anyway, etc. etc..

THIS IS FROSTBERN. That means it contains Jack Frost/Bernard lurve. If you don't enjoy dude-on-dude themes and total crack pairings that have little to no support, stop now. I'm not forcing you to read it. Seriously. However, if you are fine with boys flirtng with boys and having crushes on other boys, by all means, continue reading.

Also, I do not own Jack Frost, Bernard, or The Santa Clause movies. I make no money off of this, it's just a fan-made fictional story purely for the lulz. But, you can bet that if I did own it, there would definitely be a forth movie centered mainly around what happened to Bernard.

Those who flame will get a stern talking to from Heat Miser.

* * *

"So, I hear you've retired.."

Suddenly, Bernard went stiff as a board, rigidly frozen like any other icicle hanging off the rooves of colorful buildings he had previously been trudging past along the streets of the North Pole. He knew that voice. It was the same voice of the guy who had recently started becoming a thorn in the big man's side, as the once-head-elf had heard from Curtis over a short visit to the workshop yesterday. He clenched his hands inward tightly, forming dual fists at his sides, barely containing his anger by standing stock-still on the snowy trail. It wasn't a secret that Bernard had been moody even more so than usual what with the circumstances.

Everyone in the North Pole knew full well why the ex-Arch-Elf was being such a scrooge and a grump, but those who were aware of the reason also made sure to avoid the subject at all costs. It may not have been a secret, but it was taboo.

Bernard had been retired due to his "old age" and incredibly long record of years working at the same place by Santa. The same buffoon in scarlet who he had helped train ever since the last one had taken a hard fall off a slippery roof was now rendering him obsolete. _Him_! Bernard, the elf who had been Santa's right-hand man, second link in chain of command for over a thousand years. It wasn't right. Not only had he been furious beyond belief that the laughable little lawyer Curtis was taking his place, but it left Bernard heartbroken and unsure what to do with his time. He had been doing what he had done for so long that the mulish elf couldn't think of anything to do with his free schedule. Making toys was certainly out since that would feel more like a demotion than a retirement, plus big old Saint Nick himself had ordered that he relax, away from the workshop. Why, that red-clad boss had even suggested Bernard could take the extended vacation to find that "special someone" and tie the knot. Settle down with another elf to start his own family, all that jazz.

Safe to say, these ideas had not helped soothe Bernard's anger in the least. If anything, it only frustrated him more.

It was a wonder he hadn't already exploded at the frosty fiend currently taunting him.

"Yes. I did," Bernard growled low at the legendary figure bothering him, then turned on his heel to face the smug smirk, "What makes you ask, Frost?"

Jack Frost shrugged in a manner that said he was only faking that innocent act of his, responding calmly to the glare of daggers, "Nothing, nothing at all." At this, Bernards stance seemed to become a smidgen less hostile, arms slumping partially and balled-up fingers no longer digging crescents into his palms.

"_Well_," began Jack again, tone a blatant facade of uncertainty which Bernard hardly believed but went along with anyway, mouth curved into a deep frown.

"..Well what, Frost?"

"I was just... Ohh, nevermind," the Snow Miser waved one hand as if dismissing the thought. This instantly peeked Bernard's curiosity, but he didn't dare show any sign the words had done so.

"You were just what?"

"It's _nothing_, really-"

"What is it, Frost?"

"You really wouldn't care-"

"Try me."

The chilly smirk curling onto Jack's face got wider at the demand, expressing a clever trickster dwelling within that heart of ice, and it sent a short shiver down Bernards spine that had nothing to do with temperature.

"Well.. I was just wondering why an elf with so much talent and experience would be tossed aside."

Bernards expression went from hard and vaguely irritated to pained in two second flat, but the reaction was instinctively covered up a second later with stubborn stoniness. The change was just slow enough for Jack Frost to notice what his comment had triggered in the not-so-secretly-depressed elf. His smirk twitched upward further as a result of inward glee; the plan was going perfect.

"Santa's orders," muttered the elf, half-hoping Jack would just drop the topic while the other half strangely wanted his attention. Arms crossing over his chest as he averted his eyes to the side to hide any flicker of hurt they might betray, Bernard couldn't fathom why he would want the Frostmas-supporter to talk to him at all let alone listen to his depressed ranting. He was as tough as an Ox and as unyielding as a Mule! He couldn't possibly need comfort from anyone, it made him feel vulnerable and incapable, also far more girly than the elf would have liked. He was a man. He could take it. After all, it had just been a stupid job, right?

...

Right?

Jack Frost formed a small 'o' from his devilish smile, then morphed it back into a sharp grin. "Well. What were his reasons, exactly?"

Caught off guard, Bernard paused. He hesitated, which served to quirk one of Jack's eyebrows in question. Then, the retired elf mumbled something incoherent due to how quiet it had been said. Not only that, but Bernard had placed his hand embarrassedly over the bottom of his face, holding it there lightly as if to shield his shame.

The eyebrow went higher on his forehead. "What was that?"

"...Hwei tcheinx ahim tiyu ulrd..."

"Sorry. Still can't hear you."

Bernard snapped, now more upset than worried of saying the reason outloud to Jack.

"HE THINKS I'M TOO OLD, FROST," Bernard announced fairly loud, enough noise to catch the looks of some random elves who passed by on the road, their heads turning to look at the pair in shock. Immediately, Bernard went red from his ears down to his neck, blush now matched even to the crimson stripes of a candy cane.

Grin pleased, slightly surprised and highly entertained, Jack chuckled to himself as the beet-colored elf hunkered his head down to shoulder level, pointedly jabbing the master of winter with a hating stare as he asked huffily, "Happy now?"

Jack controlled his laughter and restrained the sniggering that threatened to escape him, instead smiling at Bernard as he responded with a tone of amusement still hanging on, "Not entirely."

As if to queue the explanation out of Jack Frost, Bernard hummed boredly at the other, his flush now mostly dissipated.

"I would most definitely be happier if you were to come out of retirement and come work for me instead. As my head elf."

Bernard nearly choked on his own intake of breath, coughing violently while Jack Frost simply looked as expectantly confident as ever. Him and his ego.

"W-Work for _YOU_?"

"Of course. Did I stutter?"

He gaped at the spirit of cold weather dumbly. Was he serious? He couldn't be! Jack had to be joking or just trying to mock him. That damned self-assured smile sure looked like Frost was serious. Bernard only gawked with incredulous eyes, gaping. His throat didn't seem like it wanted to form any sentences at the moment. And Jack Frost was never a patient man.

"..Well, are you going to answer me or not, Elf-Boy?"

Bernard closed his mouth, then opened it again, but only barely audibly squeak squeezed past.

Jack rolled his eyes heaven-ward. "Really, it's a simple yes or no ques-"

"Why do you want me, anyway?"

'Stupid question, Bernard!' The subconscious voice in the back of his brain yelled at him. He already knew why the villainous man of ice wanted his own elves. Naturally, he wanted Bernard as an elf so that he could take over Christmas from jolly old Santa Claus. And he may have been mad at the graying fat man with reindeer, but he wasn't pissed off to the point of turning traitor yet. He was a tad bit more loyal than tha-

"I like you, Bernard."

His brain came to a screeching halt.

"..You _what_?"

"You are one the oldest-" Bernard flinched here, but it was helped when he realized that had been a compliment, "-And smartest of Santa's elves. Since the fat fool has dumped you like the idiot he is, I want to help you. You're responsible, hard-working, brilliant.."

Jack Frost took a few steps closer and reached out his hand in an offer to shake Bernard's. The elf looked at it blankly.

And to his own great surprise, Bernard found himself shaking the winter wonder's hand to seal their verbally made deal. He didn't even know what was happening until Frost leaned inward, smirking to show teeth with an emotion that Bernard had yet to see on Frost's face yet.

"Not to mention, you are absolutely adorable when you blush."


End file.
